


it fell from our fingertips

by thesoundof



Series: zarriall daddies [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Kid Fic, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2741477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesoundof/pseuds/thesoundof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn's only just found out he has a daughter. Thanks to a snooping waitress, the whole world will soon be in on the secret. </p>
<p>(a series of drabbles about zarriall as surprise dads.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	it fell from our fingertips

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know exactly what this will turn into but I know I really wanted it to be a thing. So.

Zayn takes another harsh drag of his cigarette. The smoke burns a little, he’d inhaled it straight to the back of his throat. The sting is almost enough to distract him from the anxiety welling up inside of him, but not quite. He hadn’t meant to cause so much trouble. He’d truly thought he could come out with it in his own time.

 

He’d only lost his wallet and phone.

 

(It’s more like they were stolen from his table by the waitress while he was in the loo but...management doesn’t really care for semantics.)

 

It happens all the time. Normal people lose shit like that constantly. He knows for a fact he’s left his fair share of items in hotel rooms or venues but it’s never caused as much of a ruckus as this has.

 

Nothing is really that different this time either.

 

All his wallet held were two, now cancelled, credit cards and a few recites. Zayn isn’t the kind to keep family photos or sentimental items in something so flimsy and easily misplaced. His phone holds numbers of some 'important' people but he could care less about those. He’s memorized all of _his_ important people's numbers.

 

There aren’t any dirty pictures or sexy messages, haven’t been since he and Perrie broke it off. That was one phone ago. (Five years, officially.)

 

No, what worries him are the little bits of information that sit in pointless apps he never thought he’d use. There’s a voice memo Niall left him just before he’d got on a plane to Ireland with Harry a week ago. It says a lot.

 

(“ _Hey Z, love you. Don’t stay in bed too long, you’ll miss your train. Feed Lyles before you go ‘cuz Haz forgot. Heather said she’d get him the rest of the time. We can’t wait to meet the rugrat! Ya think three da’s are enough?! Hahahaha…_ ”)

 

Zayn takes a final drag of the cigarette he’d been ignoring and tosses it on the sidewalk, rubbing it out with the toe of his boot. He thinks about all the notes Harry left for him.

 

(All the tips from the baby books he’d borrowed from Ben and Lou and Caroline. _‘Remember that your baby is person, a person who is afraid of the dark and being alone.’ ‘Don’t shake the bottle when mixing formula. Stir it.’ ‘Talk to your baby. Talk, Z.  A lot. Don’t be silent and moody around our baby. I won’t allow it. They won’t need brooding lessons for years.’_ )

 

Rubbing a hand over his face, Zayn heads back into his mum’s house. He's dreading the headlines the media will come up with; he just hopes they're tame, that they won't come back to bite little Q in the ass. He itches to know what the PR team will do. Is the statement he gives going to be about acceptance or an apology? There are too many questions. Too many questions and no way to know how to answer them. Zayn wishes Niall and Harry were here with him for this but they'd all agreed a single father would go down better than three polyamourus popstars and a baby.

 

He sighs and pushes his hands hard against his eyes.

 

His daughter is waiting for him to put her to bed.


End file.
